


White Christmas

by isnonstop



Series: At Your Mercy [7]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-16 00:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13043007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isnonstop/pseuds/isnonstop
Summary: Thomas and James go to spend Christmas in Virginia.James tries to be a better Dominant while not raising suspicion with his and Thomas' families.Thomas tries to trust that James actually wants to change and isn't playing some elaborate game with him.Peter Jefferson and James Madison Sr try to push the boys to get married sooner than originally planned.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> More tags will be added as the story progresses.

“Thomas?” James said softly, glancing over at where his submissive was staring out the window as they drove to James’ parents home in Virginia.

“Yes, James,” Thomas said, turning to face him. 

“When we get to my parents’ house I have to treat you how my father expects me to,” James said softly. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Thomas shrugged. And it was. He didn’t hold it against James. The past week of James treating him like an equal had been strange and wonderful (and only a little overwhelming) but Thomas knew that they couldn’t act that way around their families. Although they had a contract, there was a clause that allowed Thomas’ father to break the contract and take him back if he thought James was no longer a suitable dominant so until they were married they would have to be very careful around their families. 

“I’m still sorry,” James sighed, glancing over at him quickly. 

“You don’t need to be,” Thomas said softly, gently tracing his fingers over his collar. 

“Are you sure you want to keep it?” James asked, noticing the way Thomas was fiddling with the collar. “We can take it off when we’re not around our families.”

“I want to keep it,” Thomas whispered, biting his lip. “Unless you don’t want me to have it.”

“I want you to have it, Thomas,” James said gently. “I told you that.”

Thomas hummed, turning back to the window, “Yeah…”

-

_“James?” Thomas called, frowning a bit as he left the bedroom to try and find his dominant. James was sat on the sofa, a mug in his hand as he stared out the dark windows. “It’s the middle of the night, why’re you up?”_

_“Couldn’t sleep,” James said, glancing over and smiling softly at Thomas. “Do you like the robe?”_

_Thomas looked down at the fluffy deep purple robe James had gifted Thomas and smiled. “Yes, it’s very soft. And warm. The pyjamas are comfy too. Thank you.”_

_“I’m glad you like them,” James smiled, gesturing to the sofa as he stood. “Sit with me? I’ll make you some tea.”_

_“I can make it,” Thomas said, stepping towards the kitchen._

_“No, no, Thomas, please, sit,” James said, resting a hand on Thomas’ arm. “There’s something I want to talk about.”_

_Thomas swallowed, those words instantly causing a pit of anxiety to form in his stomach. He nodded slightly and went to sit down on the sofa, watching James move around the kitchen. It was strange to sit and let James do something for him, even if that had become a more common occurrence over the past few days since James discovered Thomas studying._

_“Here,” James said softly, handing Thomas a mug of chamomile tea and sitting down beside him._

_“Thanks,” Thomas whispered, looking down into the mug and taking a small sip. They sat in silence for a few minutes, both sipping their teas, neither sure what to say next. Eventually Thomas sighed and rested the mug down on the coffee table, turning to James and saying, “What did you want to talk about?”_

_James sighed as well, resting his mug down next to Thomas’ and turning to him, “Your collar.”_

_Thomas’ hand instantly went to said collar, breath catching in his throat a bit. “What about it?”_

_“I think you should take it off,” James said making Thomas flinch slightly._

_“What? Why?” Thomas rested a protective hand on the collar. “You said you weren’t going to break our contract. James, you promised. You-“_

_“I’m not,” James interrupted, resting a hand on Thomas’ knee and squeezing gently. “Thomas, I’m not ending our contract.”_

_“Then why are you taking my collar back?” Thomas asked softly, panic starting to edge in._

_“Because I want us to have a clean start at trying out a relationship,” James explained softly. “I want to give you a chance at having a normal relationship. One were it’s founded on mutual interest, and trust, and respect. And most people don’t immediately sign contracts and wear collars when starting a relationship.”_

_“But we do have a contract,” Thomas whispered._

_“One that no longer applies unless we’re with our families,” James reminded him._

_“Yeah but it’s there,” Thomas insisted. “It exists.”_

_“Yes it does but as soon as I can I’m going to rip it up,” James said. “Or light it on fire. I haven’t decided which yet.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I want us to get to know each other as equals, Thomas. And you wearing a collar automatically places power dynamics into play that don’t allow for that.”_

_“James, our entire existence as a dominant and submissive automatically places power dynamics into play that don’t allow for that,” Thomas huffed. “Our entire upbringing automatically puts me at a disadvantage.”_

_“I know, but wearing a collar just adds to it,” James said, sounding a bit frustrated. “You should take it off. At least until we know each other better.”_

_“No,” Thomas said firmly._

_“What?” James was shocked. That was the first time Thomas had refused him anything._

_“I’m not taking it off unless you order me to,” Thomas said, sitting up straight and staring into James’ eyes. “I want to wear it. I need to wear it. It- it makes me feel safe, James. Like you’re not going to just abandon me.”_

_“I would never abandon you, Thomas,” James said firmly. “Not even if you decide you don’t actually want to marry me.”_

_“Yes, but James I can’t trust that yet,” Thomas said, gently tracing his fingers over his collar. “Not yet. But having the collar helps.”_

_James sighed, looking down at his lap for a moment before nodding. “Alright. Okay. If it makes you feel safe and not trapped then I want you to keep it. But if you change your mind you can take it off at any time.”_

_“Well I can’t,” Thomas pointed out, tone just slightly teasing. “I don’t have the key.”_

_James laughed, smiling fondly, “Sorry, let me rephrase. If you change your mind, I will take it off at any time.”_

_“Better,” Thomas said, grabbing his mug and drinking the rest of his tea. “I’m going back to bed. Are you coming?”_

_“I’ll be in in a minute,” James said, grabbing his tea. “Good night, Thomas.”_

_“Night, James.”_

_-_

“James?” Thomas was sat across from James at some diner they’d stopped at for lunch. It was small and empty apart from them, giving the couple privacy. Thomas hadn’t really been hungry when they stopped but James insisted that they needed to eat so he’d ordered a simple turkey sandwich. Which he promptly regretted when he remembered just how muck turkey he was going to have over the next few days. 

“Yeah?” James looked up from his salad. 

“Why haven’t we had sex?” Thomas asked, completely nonchalant as he took another bite of his sandwich. The look on James’ face at the question was comical and Thomas regretted not having a camera ready. 

“What?” James coughed, glad he hadn’t been chewing at the time. 

“Why haven’t we had sex?” Thomas repeated, resting his sandwich down on his plate. “You’ve been my dominant for months and haven’t once claimed your right to my body. Why?” 

“Are you seriously asking me why I didn’t rape you?” James frowned, setting his fork down. 

“I wouldn’t have refused you,” Thomas said, brow furrowing a bit. 

“Not refusing me isn’t the same as consenting,” James said slowly. “You know that right, Thomas?”

“‘Submissive agrees at all times to make his body readily available to Dominant for his use’,” Thomas recited one of the clauses in the contract. “You’re my dominant. You get to use my body however you want.”

“Thomas,” James sighed. “Did you spend the last five months expecting me to rape you.”

“I wouldn’t refuse you,” Thomas repeated as if that answered all of James’ concerned. 

“ _That would still be rape_ ,” James said sharply. He regretted his tone when Thomas flinched slightly, sitting back in his chair to put some space between them. “I’m sorry, Thomas. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

“It’s only rape if I say no,” Thomas said, looking confused. 

“No, Thomas, no,” James reached out, taking Thomas’ hand gently. “Anything that doesn’t have your enthusiastic consent is rape.” 

“I wouldn’t have said no,” Thomas repeated, growing less confident.

“I know that,” James sighed.

“I don’t have the right to say no,” Thomas whispered, looking down at his lap. “The contract takes that away.”

“And that’s why we never had sex,” James said softly. “Because you wouldn’t have said no, even if you didn’t want to have sex with me. And I was raised to believe a lot of shitty things about submissives and relationships but the one good thing I learned was that enthusiastic consent is mandatory.”

“Oh,” Thomas said softly, running his fingers gently over his collar. 

“No sex unless I get your enthusiastic consent,” James said, squeezing Thomas’ hand gently. 

“Okay,” Thomas said, a knot of fear that had been present since the moment the collar locked around his throat disappearing. 

—

“I could drive you know,” Thomas said, flicking through his phone as they approached the Virginia state lines. 

“You don’t have a licence,” James said, turning the radio down so they could talk. 

“I know how to drive though,” Thomas shrugged, sliding down slightly in his seat with a sigh.

“Really? I didn’t think your father would allow you to learn,” James glanced over at him, smiling at how relaxed Thomas looked. 

“Oh he didn’t,” Thomas said, shrugging. “I learned while I was in boarding school in France.” 

“Why did your father send you to France for boarding school?” James asked. 

“I’m pretty sure that was my mother’s influence,” Thomas said, flicking through the games on his phone to try and find something interesting. “She’s from there. And I think she wanted me to get in touch with my French routes.” 

“Ah, that’s how Lafayette is your cousin then?” 

“Yup,” Thomas nodded. “Their mother and mine are sisters. My mother doesn’t talk to her family anymore, hasn’t in years because they don’t approve of my father; my father was always going to send me to boarding school but I think my mother just pushed him into the direction of the schools in France.” 

“Did you like it there?” James asked.

“Yeah,” Thomas nodded. “I mean the school was pretty Traditionalist but it was fun. And I got to meet Laf so…”

“Do you think your mother knew they would be sent there?” James switched lanes so he could stop at the next rest stop. 

“I don’t know, maybe?” Thomas shifted to sit up straighter. “We’re stopping?”

“Yeah,” James nodded, glancing at him and smiling. “You wanted to drive right?”

“You’re going to let me?” Thomas’ eyes widened. 

“Of course,” James took the next exit, turning into a gas station. “Plus, I want a snack.”

Thomas smiled, “Thanks, James.”

“You’re welcome, Thomas.” 

—

Thomas drove until they were about a half hour away from James’ home. James mentally added ‘get Thomas a licence’ to his list of things to do upon their return to New York in January. The drive was comfortable, James and Thomas both sharing tidbits of their childhood and schooling. They had both attended boarding school and were happy to swap crazy stories. 

But the air in the car grew instantly less comfortable when James once again took the wheel, driving the last thirty minutes. Thomas was quiet, staring out the window and nervously tapping his fingers against his leg. James noticed the way Thomas’ entire body stiffened as he pulled into the driveway of his parents’ estate, Montpelier. 

“Thomas,” James said softly after parking the car, “are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine, James,” Thomas whispered, looking over at him. 

“Hey, listen,” James grabbed Thomas’ hand, squeezing it gently. “If you need to get away from everyone at any point, I want you to tap me three times. And I’ll make some excuse for us to go somewhere private for a while, okay?”

“Okay,” Thomas nodded, relaxing slightly at having what basically amounted to a safe word. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” James smiled gently. “I’m sorry for how I’m going to have to treat you around them.”

“I understand,” Thomas whispered. 

“But when we’re alone we go back to being equals okay?”  

“Okay,” Thomas nodded. 

“Let’s go inside before someone comes looking for us,” James gave Thomas’ hand another gentle squeeze before dropping his hand and climbing out of the car. Thomas took a second to take a deep breath, steadying himself for what was to come, and then followed James.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't post yesterday, my friends. I went Christmas shopping and then went to see Thor: Ragnarok again (it was still amazing on a second viewing). 
> 
> I don't know how many chapters this one will have but it'll probably be around five/six.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Thomas looked down as a hand tugged on his sleeve. He found one of the littlest Madisons staring up at him with wide eyes._
> 
> _“Up!” The little Madison demanded, holding his arms up to Thomas. “Wanna cuddle!”_
> 
> _Thomas crouched down and picked him up, settling the toddler onto his hip. “Um, hello. I’m Thomas.”_
> 
> _“Hello,” the toddler grinned. “I Reuben.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _James Madison had a sister named Frances Taylor Madison and a brother named Francis Taylor Madison. I hate. Female Francis will be called Frances and male Francis will be called Taylor_

“You never mentioned that you had so many siblings,” Thomas said, sitting on the edge of the bed in James’ childhood room. 

“Did your parents not tell you?” James dropped his and Thomas’ suitcase down by the door. 

“No, they never told me anything about you,” Thomas said, running a hand through his hair. 

“Oh,” James said, frowning a bit. “My parents never really told me anything about you either.” James glanced over at Thomas and smiled softly. “We should go on a proper date. Get to know each other properly.”

“That sounds nice,” Thomas said, flopping down to lay and stare up at the ceiling. “What happens at Christmas?”

“Well,” James went over and sat next to Thomas, “we usually go Christmas carolling tonight. And then midnight mass tomorrow for Christmas Eve. And we’ll do gifts when we get home from church at like one am. And a big lunch on Christmas day. And then we’ll probably have a games night on Boxing Day.”

“That sounds like a lot,” Thomas said, looking up at James. 

“It’s a pretty intense few days,” James agreed. “But we can leave first thing on the twenty-seventh and spend the rest of winter break in New York.”

“Your family won’t be upset you’re not spending more time with them?”

“Nah, I already told them I can’t stay for long since I needed to organise things for next semester.”

“What do you need to organise?” Thomas sat up, brushing his hair out of his face.

“Your enrollment for next semester,” James said, reaching out to tuck a strand of Thomas’ hair behind his ear. 

“Oh, you were serious,” Thomas smiled shyly. 

“Yeah, of course I was,” James smiled gently. 

“Thank you,” Thomas said softly before frowning. “Wait, I can’t pay for it. I don’t have access to my trust fund. Not until we’re married.”

“Don’t worry about it,” James said, patting Thomas’ hand. “I have access to my trust fund. And since my parents pay for my tuition and our condo I’ve got lots to spare.”

“That’s a lot of money to spend on me,” Thomas looked down at where James’ hand was resting over his on the bed. 

“You’re worth it,” James whispered, squeezing his hand gently. 

“I-“

“James!” A pounding on the door accompanied the yelling. “James!”

“What Ambrose?” James sighed, giving Thomas an apologetic smile and standing. He went over and opened the door, repeating, “What Ambrose?”

“Mom said to come tell you that we’re getting ready to go carolling,” Ambrose said, trying to peak around James to see Thomas. “Is he coming to? Frances said he’s Jewish.”

“He has a name,” James narrowed his eyes at his brother. “And I don’t know if he’s coming, Ambrose. I haven’t asked him yet.”

“Why would you ask him, he’s your sub?” Now it was Ambrose’s turn to frown.

“Because he’s Jewish and he may not want to participate in our Christian holiday, Ambrose,” James sighed. “Go away. Tell mother I’ll be down in a minute.” James didn’t want for Ambrose’s response before shutting the door in his face.

“Rude!” Ambrose yelled before his footsteps could be heard disappearing down the hall.

“You would let me stay here if I wanted?” Thomas asked as soon as Ambrose was gone.

“Of course,” James said, leaning back against the door. “I’m not going to force you to participate if you don’t want. I know your parents are coming to Christmas dinner but I’m pretty sure that’s just because they want to see you. So if you want to skip out on everything else that’s fine with me.”

“That’s very kind of you, James,” Thomas said softly. “But won’t it be suspicious if I don’t come? Submissives are meant to convert to their dominant's religion. I’m sure the only reason that isn’t in our contract is because my father wouldn’t allow it and it’s already such a pervasive unspoken rule.” 

That made James pause before groaning in annoyance. “You’re right.”

“I always am,” Thomas responded without thinking, his tone far sassier then he’d ever used with James. Once he realised what he’d done he froze, watching James nervously to see how the dominant would respond. It was one thing for James to _say_ he wanted to learn the true Thomas and another thing entirely for him to actually accept the true Thomas. 

But all James did was laugh, giving a small fond shake of the head as he pushed off the door. “I’m sure you are, Thomas. We should probably get ready to go then. But remember if you need to leave you are to-“

“Tap you three times,” Thomas cut James off, standing and smiling. “Yes, James. I remember.”

“Good,” James nodded. “Now, we better get changed.”

“Changed?” Thomas frowned. “Is this not good enough?” He looked down at the outfit he’d picked that morning. He enjoyed being able to pick his own outfits again, although he did sort of miss having James decide his clothes. There was something comforting in knowing that his dominant cared about how he presented himself to the world. 

“It’s a lovely outfit,” James agreed, smiling at Thomas’ skinny jeans and deep red sweater. “But Christmas carolling calls for Christmas sweaters. Ugly Christmas sweaters.”

“I don’t own a Christmas sweater,” Thomas said, watching as James dug around in their suitcase. 

“Luckily, I own tons,” James grinned, pulling out a red sweater and a green sweater. “Here. We can be one of those gross couples that match.” 

Thomas stood and went to take the red sweater from James, frowning at the ridiculous design. “You want me to wear this?”

“Yeah,” James nodded, holding green one up to his chest. “Oh, don’t make that face, Thomas. You’ll look great in it. You’d look great in a trash bag.”

Thomas flushed, ducking his head shyly and inspecting the sweater. “Alright, fine. But only because it would cause your parents to ask questions if I didn’t.”

“That’s the spirit,” James laughed, patting Thomas’ arm.

———

Thomas looked down as a hand tugged on his sleeve. He found one of the littlest Madisons staring up at him with wide eyes. 

“Up!” The little Madison demanded, holding his arms up to Thomas. “Wanna cuddle!”

Thomas crouched down and picked him up, settling the toddler onto his hip. “Um, hello. I’m Thomas.”

“Hello,” the toddler grinned. “I Reuben.”

“Hello, Reuben,” Thomas smiled, shifting the toddler a bit in his arms. Reuben reached up, tugging curiously at Thomas’ hair. 

“Your hair is black,” Reuben announced as if this was a major revelation. 

“Yes,” Thomas chuckled. “My hair is black. Your hair is black too.”

“My hair is black,” Reuben nodded, pressing his fingers to Thomas’ cheek. “What’s that?”

“My cheek,” Thomas said.

“What’s that?”

“My forehead.”

“What’s that?”

“My eyes.”

“What’s that?”

“My nose.”

“What’s that?”

“My ears.”

“What’s that?”

“Reuben,” James interrupted, returning to Thomas’ side with two glasses in his hand. “Stop that. You know what all those things are.” 

“James!” Reuben grinned, turning to his oldest brother. “‘Omas’ hair is pretty."

“Yes, Reuben,” James chuckled. “It is.”

“What’s that?” Reuben pointed to the glasses in James’ hands. 

“Drinks,” James said. “Go play with Lizzie, Reuben.” 

“Okay,” Reuben said, wriggling around so Thomas would put him down. Thomas did, resting the toddler down gently and laughing as Reuben immediately ran off. 

“I’m sorry about that,” James said softly so no one overheard. “The ‘what’s that’ game is apparently his favourite right now.” 

“It’s fine,” Thomas whispered, taking the offered drink with a much louder, “Thank you, Sir.”

“You’re welcome,” James said, leaning against the wall and watching his siblings. The younger ones were running around playing an elaborate mix of ‘Tag’ and ‘The Floor is Lava’ while the older ones sat on the couches talking. They’d gotten back from carolling only a few minutes ago and James’ mother had instantly disappeared into the kitchen to make hot chocolate while his father had disappeared into his office to deal with ‘business’.

“Did you have fun?” James leaned in to whisper into Thomas' ear.

“Yes, Sir,” Thomas whispered, ducking his head. “Even if I didn’t know any of the words to the songs.”

“I’m glad,” James whispered, pulling back as footsteps approached them. 

“Hey, James, get a room,” Frances teased, crossing her arms as she watched her brother. 

James rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around Thomas’ waist. “Hey, Frances, fuck off.”

Frances gasped dramatically, pressing a hand over her ears, “My poor Christian ears. Sullied by my dear brother’s vulgar mouth. New York has corrupted you."

“Did you need something, Frances?” James laughed, shaking his head fondly. 

“Yeah,” she nodded, hands falling down to her sides. “We want a proper introduction to your sub.”

“Who’s we?” James raised an eyebrow.

“All of us,” Frances crossed her arms. “Come on, James, we’ve been hearing about this Thomas for years and have never been allowed to meet him until now. Let him actually come meet us.” 

James glanced at Thomas who was watching the floor like the obedient submissive he was. Thomas leaned slightly into James, unnoticeable to an outside party but enough to reassure James that Thomas was okay with Frances’ request. 

“Sure, Kika,” James said, turning back to his sister. 

“Stop calling me that,” she huffed. “I’m not five.”

“That pout says otherwise,” James teased. 

“I’m not pouting!” She glared. 

“Mhmm, sure,” James pressed a hand to Thomas’ back, leading him over to the couches. Frances let out a frustrated huff and followed them. 

———

“Your siblings are nice,” Thomas said softly as he shut the door behind him, having just returned to the bedroom from brushing his teeth. “Intense but nice.”

“They’re exhausting,” James said, pulling off his sweater and letting it drop to the floor. “I love them but I’m very glad I live in a different state now.”

“It must have been nice to grow up with siblings though,” Thomas pulled on the silk pyjama bottoms he’d packed for the trip, his favourite of the five sets James had got him. “I was always really lonely as a kid.”

“Yeah I suppose it was nice to have them around to play with,” he shrugged, not bothering with a pyjama shirt and just pulling on his bottoms. “When we weren’t fighting.”

“Did you fight a lot?” Thomas asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and putting his bonnet to protect his hair while he slept. 

“When we were younger,” James nodded, climbing into the bed. “It got better when we all starting going to boarding school and only saw each other during vacations.”

“Ah,” Thomas said, shifting to slide under the blankets. “As a kid, I wished I had siblings. I always wanted someone to share things with. And I guess I got that when I went to boarding school and met Laf. They’ve become like a sibling to me.” 

“They talk about you a lot,” James climbed under the blankets as well. “Right from the beginning of the year, they’d constantly be talking about their friend from boarding school. They never mentioned your name though so I didn’t know it was you.”

“I’ve been texting them a lot since the Christmas party,” Thomas admitted softly before pausing and looking up at James. “That is okay right?”

“Of course, Thomas,” James rested a hand on Thomas’ knee. “The contract no longer applies.”

“Right yeah,” Thomas said softly, looking down at James’ hand. He found that the dominant’s touch radiated warmth, filling his body with a sense of comfort that he couldn’t quite explain. 

“We should probably get to sleep,” James said softly, pulling his hand away and leaving Thomas feeling cold. 

“Yeah okay,” Thomas whispered, sliding down to lay on his back. “What time do we have to get up tomorrow?”

“Whenever you want,” James laid down as well. “Don’t worry about getting up early or anything. We don’t have any plans until the afternoon.”

“What’re we doing?” Thomas turned to look at him. 

“It’s a surprise,” James smiled, mirth twinkling in his eyes. 

“A surprise,” Thomas repeated softly. 

“Yup,” James nodded, rolling over and shutting off the lights. “Good night, Thomas.”

“Night, James,” Thomas whispered, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the sound of James’ breathing. It didn’t take long for the dominant to fall asleep - it never did - but Thomas laid there for a while just listening to the comforting sound of James’ breaths. Eventually, Thomas rolled over, reaching out to rest a hand on James’ chest as he allowed himself to drift to sleep. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I searched James’ siblings on google it told me if they were a sister or brother… except Catlett who was listed as “sibling” soooo NB Catlett it is. (it's because Catlett died at five weeks old but anyway let's just ignore that kay bye)
> 
> Francis Madison, 17 [N]  
> Ambrose Madison, 15 [S]  
> Catlett Madison, 13 (NB) [D]  
> Nelly Conway Madison, 11 [D]  
> William Madison, 10 [D]  
> Sarah Madison, 8 [S]  
> Elizabeth Madison, 4 [S]  
> Reuben Madison, 2 [D]  
> Taylor Madison, 6 months [S]
> 
> I take care of a 2-year-old boy and we are constantly playing the "what's that" game... it is cute for the first minute but quickly becomes very annoying especially when I can't figure out what he is looking at and he knows what it is so he refuses to stop asking what's that until I get it right... 
> 
> It was so hard to write sweater and not jumper… living in the garbage country that is England has ruined me.
> 
> (Ps I found my original plan for the lams get together story and _boy did i end up saving you lovely people a lot of angst_ )


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Thomas. Thomas, it’s time to wake up.”_
> 
> _“Don’t wanna,” Thomas whined, rolling over and pressing his face into the pillow._
> 
> _“You have to,” James chuckled, gently rubbing Thomas’ back. “It’s already ten o’clock.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy this 2000 word doze of fluff before the angst train arrives in town.

James woke the next morning to the feeling of a warm body snuggling into his side. He opened his eyes and looked down to see Thomas’ face pressed into the side of his neck, the submissive’s arm wrapped firmly around his waist. Thomas breath was warm against his neck and James couldn’t help but smile as he reaching up to gently run his fingers over Thomas’ cheek. The submissive hummed, cuddling in closer to James with a smile. 

James laughed softly, hugging Thomas a little closer and glancing over to check the time. He should probably get up and go get breakfast but he didn’t particularly want to move from where he was trapped under his sleeping submissive. Thomas shifted in his sleep, forehead pressing more firmly into James’ neck and arm tightening around his waist like he knew James was thinking of moving and didn’t want him to. James smiled, settling down and shutting his eyes. 

_Breakfast can wait._

—

“Thomas. Thomas, it’s time to wake up.” 

“Don’t wanna,” Thomas whined, rolling over and pressing his face into the pillow.

“You have to,” James chuckled, gently rubbing Thomas’ back. “It’s already ten o’clock.”

“But I’m comfy,” Thomas pulled the blankets up over his head.

“Don’t you want to find out what your surprise is?” James asked, pulling the blankets back down. 

“My surprise?” Thomas rolled over, cracking his eyes open and looking up at Thomas.

“Yeah, remember we’re going out this afternoon and it’s a surprise,” James smiled down at Thomas. “But you’ve got to get up and get ready so we can go.”

“Alright,” Thomas sighed, stretching and sitting up. 

“I’m going downstairs,” James stood. “Once you’re dressed and ready come join me okay?”

“Okay, James,” Thomas said, pulling off his bonnet and tossing it to the side. James left the room and headed downstairs to the kitchen where his mother was preparing lunch.

“Hello, James darling,” Eleanor said, smiling at her eldest. “You’re up late.”

“Morning, mom,” James pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Sorry, we missed breakfast. Thomas and I were tired from the long drive down.”

“It’s fine, dear,” she said, patting his cheek gently. “No harm done. Will you be joining us for lunch?”

“No, sorry,” James gave a sheepish smile. “I’m taking Thomas ice skating.”

Eleanor smiled, “That sounds like fun, darling.”

“We’ll be back in time for dinner though,” James promised. “And Mass.”

“Make sure you are,” Eleanor nodded. “Your father will not be impressed if you miss either of those things. And I believe Thomas’ parents will be joining us for dinner tonight.”

“Really?” James asked, surprised. “I thought they were just coming to dinner tomorrow.”

“Your father mentioned something about Mr Jefferson needing to discuss some things so they’ll be joining us tonight as well,” Eleanor said, returning to her cooking. “So we’re expecting you here and on your best behaviour, James.”

“Yes, mother, of course,” James nodded, making Thomas a cup of coffee in a travel mug. “We’ll be here.”

“James, so good of you to grace us with your presence,” James Madison Sr said, entering the kitchen. 

“Good morning, Father,” James said, turning to him. “I’m sorry we missed breakfast. It was a long drive down from New York. And I’m still exhausted from exams.”

“I expect to see you and your submissive at dinner,” James Sr said, taking the cup of coffee Eleanor handed him without any acknowledgement or thanks. “Afterwards Peter and I have things to discuss with you.”

“Yes, father, we’ll be there,” James said, worry settling into his stomach. What could his father and Thomas’ possibly have to discuss with him?

“Good,” his father nodded before turning to his wife. “Eleanor, I will be in my office. Call me when lunch is ready.”

“Yes, Sir,” Eleanor said, ducking her head slightly. Without another word, James Sr left the kitchen leaving James worriedly tapping the side of the travel mug he was holding. Eleanor glanced at her son briefly before returning to her cooking, leaving him to his thoughts. 

—

“Where are we going?” Thomas asked for the tenth time in the past five minutes. They’d been driving for a while at that point and Thomas still couldn’t figure out where James was taking him. 

“It’s a surprise,” James responded, the same thing he’d said every time Thomas asked.

“Can I have a clue?”

“No.”

Thomas huffed, crossing his arms and looking out the window. 

“Don’t pout, Thomas,” James chuckled. 

“Is that an order, _sir_?” Thomas snapped.

James smiled instantly disappeared, speaking softly, “No, Thomas, of course not.”

Thomas looked over at him, the worried look on James’ face making his annoyance disappear. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped. I just- I’m not the biggest fan of surprises.”

“It’s fine, Thomas,” James said, briefly looking over to give him a smile. “You’re allowed to get mad at me. And if you don’t like surprises I’ll tell you, we’re-“

“No no!” Thomas interrupted. “You wanted it to be a surprise. It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me and ruin it.”

“It won’t ruin it,” James said. “You don’t like surprises so keeping it from you and making you upset would ruin it.”

“I don’t want you to tell me,” Thomas said firmly. “I want it to be a surprise.”

“But you said you don’t like surprises,” James said with a frown.

“I don’t like surprises because ever surprise I’ve ever gotten in the past has hurt me somehow,” Thomas explained softly. “But you’re not going to hurt me right?”

“Of course not,” James said. 

“And I want to learn to trust you so,” Thomas waved a hand to the road, “surprise me.”

“Are you sure?” James asked, glancing over at him. “I won’t be upset if you want me to tell you. We can still have fun today.”

“I’m sure,” Thomas said, turning to look out the window again. 

“Alright,” James nodded slightly. “We’re almost there by the way. Maybe another ten minutes or so.”

“Cool,” Thomas pressed his forehead to the glass. He watched the trees go by as James drove, frowning in confusion when the dominant pulled into a park. “James, it’s freezing outside, why’re we going to a park.”

“You’ll see,” James said, parking the car and climbing out. Thomas followed him, climbing out of the car quickly and adjusting his scarf. James went to the trunk and pulled out a duffle bag. 

“Are we having a picnic in the snow-covered park?” Thomas’ frown deepened. 

“Nope,” James shut and locked the car, holding out a hand to Thomas. “Come on.” Thomas took James’ hand, letting the dominant guide him down a snow-covered trail through the park until they arrived at a small frozen pond. 

“Are we going ice skating?” Thomas asked, pieces clicking together in his mind.

“Yup,” James nodded, dropping the duffle bag into the snow and pulling out two pairs of skates. James held a pair out to Thomas who took them reluctantly. 

“I’ve never been ice skating before,” Thomas said, looking down at the skates. 

“I can teach you,” James said with a smile. “I used to love ice skating as a kid. But I haven’t been in years. It’s not too hard.”

“All the videos I’ve seen on the internet say otherwise,” Thomas said sceptically as James sat down on a bench near the pond to put on his skates. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” James said, grinning at Thomas as the submissive sat down beside him. “I won’t let anything bad happen.”

Thomas watched James for a moment, expression unreadable, before nodding and pulling off his boots. 

“I also brought hot chocolate,” James said, pulling a thermos out of the duffel. “And coffee if you don’t like hot chocolate.” He pulled out a second thermos. “And tea just in case.” A third thermos was pulled from the bag making Thomas laugh. The completely earnest and eager expression on James’ face warmed Thomas’ heart far more than any of those drinks good.

“I like hot chocolate, James,” Thomas said, tugging the skates onto his feet. “As long as it’s a Kosher brand.” 

James’ eyes widened, looking down at the thermos, “Shit.”

Thomas laughed loudly, “What brand did you use, James? I’ll check online to see if it’s Kosher.” 

“Swiss Miss,” James said, biting his lip as he carried the thermoses over to the bench. “I used the tea and coffee that you packed from home so I’m guessing since you bought that stuff that it’s Kosher.”

“Yeah, it is,” Thomas said, scrolling through the search results on his phone. “Did you use the twenty-eight-point-five ounce canister?”

“Um… yeah?” James sat down next to Thomas.

“It looks like this,” Thomas showed him a picture.

“Yeah that’s the one,” James nodded. 

“Well, then you’re in luck,” Thomas looked up at him with a smile. “It is Kosher.”

“Good,” James sighed with relief. “I’m glad. I’ll make sure to check next time I buy things.”

“Look for this symbol,” Thomas said, clicking on a picture of the symbol that came on packaging to show something was Kosher. “Or ask. I’ve got most Kosher brands memorised at this point.”

“Alright I will,” James promised, holding out the thermos to Thomas. “Want some?”

“Thanks,” Thomas took the thermos, taking a sip of the hot chocolate with a smile. He sipped the drink slowly, looking around at the snow-covered park. “It’s really pretty.”

“It is,” James agreed softly, sipping on the tea. 

“It’s lovely,” Thomas glanced over at the dominant, finding James watching him. He blushed, ducking his head looking down at his lap and taking another sip of the hot chocolate. “Should we skate?” 

“Yeah, let’s,” James said, putting the thermos down on the bench next to him. “Come on. I’ll help you.” He held out a hand to Thomas.

Thomas closed his thermos and rested it on the bench before resting his hand in James’. The dominant pulled Thomas to his feet, steadying him when the submissive wobbled a bit.

“Ready?” James asked softly, holding Thomas’ hand tight as he helped him walk over to the pond slowly. 

“No,” Thomas said, leaning into James. “Don’t let me fall.”

“I won’t,” James promised, stepping onto the ice carefully, pulling Thomas with him. “Come on. It’ll be fun. Just lean on me.”

“Alright,” Thomas bit his lip, stepping onto the ice and slipping. He stumbled into James with a squeak, gripping the dominant’s shoulders tight. James laughed, sliding back a bit on the ice and pulling Thomas with him. 

“James!” Thomas exclaimed as they moved, hands tightening on James’ shoulders. 

“It’s okay,” James laughed. “Just hold onto me. I won’t let you fall.”

“You better not,” Thomas said, trying to stand up straight and mostly succeeding. 

“There you go,” James grinned. “You’ve got it. Just let me lead, okay?”

“Okay,” Thomas said, keeping his hands on James’ shoulders but loosening his grip a bit as the dominant began to lead Thomas slowly across the ice.

—

“That was fun,” Thomas said, shaking the snow out of his hair as he climbed back into the car. He and James had skated for a while before Thomas ended up losing his balance so spectacularly that he landed both him and James in the snow bank on the side of the pond. They ended up changing back into their boots and having a snowball fight before settling down on the bench and drinking the rest of their hot drinks. 

“Yeah, it was,” James agreed, starting the car. “I’m glad you had fun, Thomas.”

“Thank you for bringing me,” Thomas buckled his seatbelt as James pulled out of the park. 

“You’re welcome,” James smiled. 

They sat in silence for a while, both happy to simply enjoy each other’s company. As they drew close to his parents’ house James sighed, knowing he needed to warn Thomas about dinner but not wanting to ruin the happy mood.

“You okay?” Thomas asked, glancing over at James.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I just need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” Thomas asked, sounding a little worried. 

“Your parents are going to be at dinner tonight,” James said. “And my father and yours apparently need to talk to me about something.”

“Oh,” Thomas breathed, heart sinking. “What do they want?”

“I don’t know,” James said softly, reaching out to take Thomas’ hand. “But I won’t let them take you or hurt you. I promise.”

“If my father decides you’re no longer a suitable dominant he can take me from you, James,” Thomas squeezed his hand. 

“Well, we’ve just got to make sure he doesn’t think that,” James said firmly. Thomas swallowed, chewing on his bottom lip as James pulled into his parents’ driveway. “I’m going to protect you, Thomas. I promise.”

“Okay,” Thomas whispered, squeezing James’ hand as he parked the car. 

“You’re mine as long as you want to be, Thomas,” James promised, turning to the submissive. “I’m not going to let your father rule your life anymore.”

“Okay, James,” Thomas whispered, giving James a small smile. 

“Let’s go inside,” James said with a sigh, giving Thomas’ hand a tight squeeze before leaving the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve never been ice-skating. My mum was a figure skater as a kid and was on track to become an Olympian … until her parents moved her to a tropical island where there’s no ice or snow. She is still bitter to this day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Thomas stepped over to his mother, wrapping her in a tight hug._
> 
> _“Hello, my darling boy,” Jane whispered, returning the hug firmly. “I’ve missed you.”_
> 
> _“I’ve missed you too, mom,” Thomas whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the angst begins...

The house was suspiciously quiet when James and Thomas entered, making James frown. Never in his life had his house been this quiet. He had too many siblings - too many dominant siblings - for there to ever be even a moment of peace. 

“Where is everyone?” James whispered, resting a hand on Thomas’ lower back and guiding him down the hall towards the kitchen. Thomas stayed silent, too nervous to speak. “Mother?”

“Yes, dear?” Eleanor called from the kitchen. James opened the kitchen door, holding it for Thomas to enter. Eleanor was stood at the stove with Ambrose and Sarah on either side of her, who were taking the dishes she was pulling from the oven and resting them on the counter. Elizabeth was stood on a stool, carefully counting out the correct amount of cutlery needed to set the table. Taylor was in his high chair, chewing on a rice cake and babbling to himself. 

“Where’re the others?” James asked. “And why’s it so quiet?”

“Frances is getting Reuben ready,” Eleanor explained, not bothering to look at her son as she continued to pull dishes out of the oven. “Catlett, Nelly, and William are with your father.”

“When are the Jeffersons arriving?” James asked, gently rubbing circles on Thomas’ back where no one could see. 

“They should be here any minute,” Eleanor glanced over her shoulder at him. “You two should go get changed. Your father will be upset if you’re not ready when they arrive. And then send Thomas back down here. He can help set the table. You’d best go see your father before dinner.”

“Okay, mother,” James said, grabbing Thomas’ wrist and pulling him out of the kitchen. Not a word was spoken as the pair went upstairs to James room. Once the door was shut James sighed and dropped Thomas’ wrist. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Thomas asked softly, running a hand through his hair as he moved to their suitcase. 

“For my mother just assuming you were going to help,” James explained, pulling off his sweater. 

“I’m a submissive, James,” Thomas said, grabbing the outfit he’d picked for that night. “It’s expected that I’ll help with the cooking and stuff. It’s fine.”

“If you don’t want to you don’t have to,” he said, grabbing his own outfit. “I’ll tell my mother I had something I needed you to do.”

“I don’t mind helping, James,” he said, tugging off his slightly damp sweater. “I like cooking remember?”

“Do you like cooking because you like it or because you’ve been conditioned your whole life to think you have to?” James asked, unbuckling his belt and kicking off his wet jeans. 

“Does it matter?” Thomas asked. “I like cooking, why does the reason why I like it matter if at the end of the day I get enjoyment from it?”

“Because you shouldn’t like something just because you’ve basically been forced to,” James said, pulling on his dry slacks. 

“James, I like cooking and I don’t really care to psychoanalysis that enjoyment,” Thomas buttoned up his shirt. 

“But-“

“James, please,” Thomas turned to him, swallowing hard. “Stop. We can have this discussion when we get back to New York but for now just let it go. It’s just going to make being around your family and mine much harder.”

“Okay,” James said. “Okay, Thomas. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make things harder for you.”

“I know,” Thomas looked down at his feet. “I know you’re just trying to help but that isn’t helpful right now so let’s just leave it until we get home.”

“Okay,” James stepped over, grabbing Thomas’ hand and squeezing it gently. “Anything I can do that’ll make this easier for you?”

“No,” Thomas whispered. “Not unless you can magically change our families’ mindset about submissives proper place.”

“Yeah, that I cannot do,” James whispered sadly. “But I can promise that I won’t let them hurt you. And that your father is never getting his hands on you again.” 

“That’s a very big thing to promise,” Thomas said softly. “My father has claim to me until I’m married.”

“As long as he continues thinking I’m a suitable dom that won’t be a problem,” James said softly. “He won’t try to take you away from my care if he thinks I’m a good dom. So we just convince him I’m a good dom.”

“You have to act the way he expects,” Thomas said, squeezing his hand. “James, no matter how hard it is, you have to act the way they expect. Promise me please.”

“I promise, Thomas,” James said softly, squeezing his hand. “We should probably finish getting changed.” 

“Yeah okay,” Thomas said softly, pulling away and moving to finish getting ready. Each article of clothing felt like a piece of armour Thomas was donning to prepare for battle. He made sure to leave his top button unbuttoned so that his collar was on display. Once he was ready he went over and squeezed James’ hand one more time before leaving and heading back down to the kitchen. 

“Mrs Madison?” Thomas said as he entered. 

“Ah, Thomas, dear,” she turned to him with a smile. “Come help me carry these through to the dining room. Your parents have just arrived.”

“Oh okay,” Thomas said, taking the serving dish of roast potatoes she offered him. “Where are they?”

“Talking to my husband,” Eleanor said, grabbing another serving dish and leading him into the dining room. 

“Ah,” Thomas said, resting the dish down on the table. Ambrose and Sarah were putting plates and cutlery down at each seat, Elizabeth following behind and resting a cloth napkin on each plate. 

“Come, there’s just one more dish to bring through,” Eleanor took Thomas back to the kitchen. “Here, darling, you take this through and I’ll go call the others.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Thomas said, taking the dish and taking it to the dining room. Thomas took the dish into the dining room, resting it down on the last empty coaster before stepping back and looking around. He wasn’t quite sure what to do next.

“You’re supposed to stand behind your chair,” Ambrose said from behind Thomas, making the older submissive jump slightly. 

“What?” He turned to Ambrose.

“You stand behind your chair until Father joins us and sits,” Ambrose said. “Unless James doesn’t let you sit at the table. Mom said to set a place for you since she didn’t know if James lets you sit. But I can get you a kneeling pillow instead.”

“No, I- um,” Thomas bit his lip. Would James make him kneel? It was within his rights to. And it would show their parents that he was treating Thomas appropriately. But it would be humiliating. 

“Thomas?” Ambrose said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Sorry, um,” Thomas swallowed. “I don’t know if he’ll let me sit. He does at home but we’ve never been to a formal dinner like this so I don’t know.” 

“I’ll get a kneeling pillow just in case,” Ambrose said with a shrug, leaving the dining room. James was left along with Sarah and Elizabeth; the former was leaning against the wall, seemingly caught in her own world as she tapped her fingers against her leg, while the latter was staring up at Thomas with interest. 

“You’re tall,” Elizabeth said, coming over to stand next to him. “How tall are you?”

“I’m six-two,” Thomas said, looking down at her. “How tall are you?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know. Mommy said that the doctor said I’m the perfect height for my age.”

“That’s good then,” Thomas said. 

“Are you the perfect height for your age?” Elizabeth asked. 

“I guess,” he said, nervously tugging on his shirt sleeves. 

“Are you taller than James?” Elizabeth asked. 

“I think we’re about the same hieght,” Thomas said with a slight frown. “Why?”

“Mommy said that good submissives are supposed to be smaller than their doms,” Elizabeth tilted her head slightly. “Does that mean you’re a bad submissive?” 

“Lizzie, leave him alone,” Ambrose said, returning with a black kneeling pillow in his hands. “Here, Thomas.”

“Um, thanks,” Thomas said softly, taking the pad. “Which one is my seat?” 

“This one,” he pointed to a chair two down from the head of the table on the right. “James sits at Father’s right since he’s the oldest and you sit next to him. Or kneel. Whatever. Mother is on Father’s left. And your dad’s at the foot with your mom on his right.”

“Okay,” Thomas said, moving to stand behind his seat; he rested the kneeling pad on the floor until the chair. The other Madison children started to file in, all moving to stand behind their spots. 

“Lizzie, go stand at your chair,” Ambrose pushed her gently. “Father will be angry if you’re not where you need to be when he gets here.” 

Elizabeth huffed but went, standing behind her seat and crossing her arms. Ambrose rolled his eyes before moving to his spot. 

“Thomas,” James called from the doorway and when Thomas looked he could see his parents standing just behind his dominant. “Come here.”

“Yes, Sir,” Thomas said, moving quickly to stand before his dominant. 

“Say hello to your parents and then come back to your seat,” James said, waving in their direction before moving into the dining room. 

“Yes, Sir,” Thomas said before turning to his parents. “Hello, Father. Hello mother.”

“Hello, Thomas,” Peter said, tone neutral and expression empassive. “I trust you are behaving properly for your dominant.”

“Yes, Father,” Thomas said, ducking his head slightly. “May I give mother a hug, sir?”

“You may,” Peter said before moving into the dining room. Thomas stepped over to his mother, wrapping her in a tight hug. 

“Hello, my darling boy,” Jane whispered, returning the hug firmly. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, mom,” Thomas whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair. They hugged for another few seconds before Jane pulled back. 

“We mustn’t take too long,” she whispered. “Wouldn’t want to make your father angry.”

“Of course, mother,” Thomas said, giving her a smile before entering the dining room. He went to James’ side, finding his dominant holding the kneeling pad he’d tucked under the seat. 

“Thomas, what is this?” James asked, lifting the pad a bit. 

“I wasn’t sure if you would allow me to sit, Sir,” Thomas explained softly, gaze turned to the floor. He could feel his father watching him, the cold stare making Thomas feel like a child again. “So Ambrose fetched a kneeling pad just in case.”

James huffed, “Perhaps I should make you kneel for being so presumputuous as to think you could predict my thoughts.”

Thomas flinched, shoulders hunching a bit. He knew James was just acting that as to not raise suspicions with their parents but it still hurt to hear the anger and disgust in his dominant’s voice. 

“Nothing to say?” James gripped the submissive’s chin, forcing Thomas to look at him. 

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Thomas whispered, shame flooding his system. With each word James spoke it became harder and harder for Thomas to remember this was an act. Afterall he’d been taught his entire life that this is how he was supposed to be treated. This was the way dominants were supposed to treat their submissives and Thomas was arrogant to think he should be treated otherwise. James was right to call him presumtious. It was extremely presumptuous for him to think that he deserved any treatment other than this. 

“I’m sure,” James said, dropping Thomas’ chin and grabbing the chair that had been placed at the table for the submissive. He moved it away, resting it against the wall and Thomas’ heart pulmetted. “You will kneel, submissive. And count yourself lucky I’m still allowing you to eat.”

“Yes, Sir,” Thomas whispered, watching as James dropped the kneeling pad next to his chair. “Thank you, Sir.”

Before James could say anything else his father entered the room, going over to shake Peter’s hand, “Sorry to keep you waiting, Peter. I got a call from a business assosiate I just had to take.”

“It’s no trouble, James,” Peter said, returning the handshake firmly. James Sr gave a small smile before moving to the head of the table, his gaze sweeping over his children until it landed on the spot where Thomas’ chair should have been. 

“Will your submissive not be joining us, James?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“No, Father, he has not earned the right to sit at the table,” James said smoothly, not looking at Thomas as the submissive hunched even further into himself.

“Oh?” James Sr asked as he sat, signalling for everyone else to sit as well. Thomas folded to his knees, resting his hands in his lap and trying to will them to stop trembling. 

“He needs a reminder of his place,” James explained, taking his napkin off his plate and resting it in his lap. “He seems to have forgotten who’s in charge here.”

“Ah,” James Sr nodded. “You’d do well to correct that quickly.”

“Thomas can be quite stubborn,” Peter said, giving James an almost apologetic look. “Best to not let him get ideas into his head.”

“Don’t worry,” James rested a hand on Thomas’ head, gripping his curls firmly. “I’ve got it undercontrol.”

“Good,” James Sr nodded, giving his son a proud look. “We can discuss this further after dinner. Peter and I have a matter to discuss with you. For now though, let’s eat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry… I promise I will explain why James was so shitty at the end in the next chapter. There’s a reason I swear and it’s not him secretly being an ass. 
> 
> Next chapter is going to be a rough one for Thomas so strap in my friends it's about to get bumpy.
> 
> Also, I'm sorry if there are any errors in this one (or any more than usual)... one of the little gremlins I take care of gave me an eye infection so it hurts to look at my computer but I wanted to post this before I went to bed soooo... yeah. Sorry.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Presents were exchanged between the Madisons, soft Christmas music playing in the background and the fire crackling in the corner. There were cheers and excited “thank you!”s when someone received a present they wanted. And less excited by still polite “thank you”s when it was a less than desirable present._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is violence in this chapter. Brief violence. But it's there. And it's going to cause lasting issues for our dear couple.

_“James!” Frances grabbed his arm, pulling him into the room next to their father’s office. “James, I need to talk to you.”_

_“What’s wrong Frances?” James asked, confused. “He was supposed to go see his father before dinner and he just wanted to get that over with so he could go to Thomas._

_“I need to warn you about something,” Frances said, looking worried. “I overheard dad talking on the phone with Thomas’ father earlier. I think Thomas’ dad is thinking of breaking your engagement.”_

_James’ heart stopped, entire body stiffening. “What?”_

_“I heard dad insisting that you were a suitable dominant and that when they came to dinner you would prove that,” Frances said._

_“Do you know why Thomas’ father thinks I’m unsuitable?” James asked, swallowing. His worst nightmare is coming true and he hated what he was going to have to do to stop it._

_Frances shook her head, “I could only hear dad’s side of the phone and he didn’t say anything.”_

_“Okay,” James nodded. “Thank you for warning me, Frances.”_

_“No problem, James,” Frances said, stepping over and giving him a hug. “I can see how much you care about Thomas, Jemmy. But you know if you want to keep him you’ve got to show dad and Mr Jefferson what they want to see.”_

_“I know, Kika,” James whispered, already feeling like shit for the way he was going to have to treat Thomas._

_“He’ll forgive you,” Frances said, pulling back to look up at James._

_“I hope so,” James said softly, running a hand over his face. “I should go see Father. You go downstairs, I see you in a minute. Thanks again, Kika.”_

_Frances gave him a smile before leaving; he followed her out of the room and watched her go downstairs before sighing and turning to his father’s office. He knocked firmly and waited for his father call, “enter,” before opening the door and slipping inside._

_“Ah, James,” James Sr looked up from his laptop. “Come sit. There’s something I need to discuss.”_

_“What is it, father?” James asked, shutting the door and moving to sit across from his father._

_“Peter Jefferson has reason to suspect you’re not a suitable dominant for his son,” James Sr said, not bothering to waste time. “I am sure this is unfounded. But you are to give him no reason to think you are not a good match for Thomas this evening. If he breaks this engagement off that will be very bad for this family. Am I understood?”_

_“Yes, Father,” James said, stomach churning at the implications of his father’s words._

_“You are to be the perfect Southern dominant you were raised as,” Mr Madison said firmly. “None of that liberal bullshit I’m sure you’re exposed to in New York. I will not have it.”_

_“Yes, Father,” James said, forcing himself to sit up straighter. “I won’t disappoint you.”_

_“See that you don’t,” James Sr said with a nod as his phone rang. He sighed, “I’ve got to take this. Go downstairs. I’ll be with you in a moment.”_

—

“James, come with Peter and me,” James Sr said as he stood from his place after dinner was finished. “Bring your submissive.”

“Yes, Father,” James said, standing. He grabbed a handful of Thomas’ hair, tugging to pull the submissive up to his feet. Thomas stood quickly, keeping his head bowed as he followed James out of the dining room. He’d barely been able to eat because of the bundle of anxiety and fear in his stomach. Thomas dreaded to think what Mr Madison and his father needed to discuss with James. 

“Have a seat, Peter,” Mr Madison said, gesturing to the chairs in his office as he moved over to the little bar set up in the corner. “Would you like a drink?”

“Yes, thank you,” Peter said, sitting down. 

“James?” Mr Madison glanced at his son. “Drink?”

“I’m still underaged, Father,” James reminded him, sitting across from Peter. Thomas awkwardly stood in the doorway, not sure where he was supposed to be, until James snapped, “Thomas, come,” and pointed to the floor next to his chair. 

“Yes, Sir,” Thomas said softly, quickly moving to kneel at James’ feet. Peter gave an approving hum at the way Thomas obeyed James instantly. 

“What did you need to talk about, Father?” James asked as Madison handed Peter his drink before sitting down with his own. 

“As I mentioned before dinner, Peter was concerned about you not being a suitable dominant for his son,” Mr Madison said, sipping his scotch. 

“Oh?” James said, resting a possessive hand on Thomas’ head. “May I ask why you think that, Mr Jefferson?”

“A colleague of mine has a son in your classes, Charles Lee, and young Charles mentioned to his father that you’re quite the supporter of some distasteful liberal beliefs,” Peter said, watching James with interest. “His father, of course, was concerned and shared this with me immediately.”

“I see,” James nodded slowly. “Well, Mr Jefferson, I assure you there is nothing to worry about. You see, Charles and I are rivals. He’s bitterly jealous of how I best him in our classes and he’s been spreading lies about me around campus all semester. I’m not surprised that those lies made it back to his father. He’s just trying to discredit me as a dominant and a scholar.”

Thomas chewed on his bottom lip, hands trembling slightly in his lap, desperately hoping his father would believe what James was saying. 

Peter hummed thoughtfully, “I will admit that based on this evening I would say those worries are unfounded. You are proving to be just the dominant your father said you were. Strong, strict, in command. Just what my son needs. He hasn’t been giving you any trouble has he?”

“No, sir,” James said, tightening his grip on Thomas’ hair enough to make the submissive let out a small gasp of pain. “Nothing I cannot handle.”

“I told you, Peter,” James Sr said, smirking slightly over the rim of his glass. “My James is more than capable of keeping his submissive in line.”

“I’m sorry to have doubted you,” Peter said. “But you understand that I had my worries. I couldn’t have my son be married to a weak dominant. The boy is far too unruly.”

“I understand completely, Peter,” James Sr said with a nod. “I feel the same about the matches I’m arranging for my own submissive children. And if there was any doubt in my mind that James was a weak dominant or unsuitable in any way I’d encourage you to break the contract myself.” 

Thomas couldn’t help the whispered, “no,” that slipped from his throat at the thought of being taken away from James. He thought - hoped, prayed - that it was too quiet for the other men to hear it. But unfortunately he was not so lucky. James tugged his hair sharply, pulling Thomas’ head back and forcing him to kneel up straighter. 

“Did I give you permission to speak?” James said, eyes narrowed as he stared at the submissive. Thomas tried desperately to find even a tiny glint of gentleness in James’ eyes but he found none, causing him to whimper slightly. 

Maybe this was who James really was. And the last few weeks, the last few months, had all been some game he was playing. Or a dream.

“Answer me, boy!” James snapped, raising his hand and slapping Thomas hard across the cheek. Thomas gasped, tears filling his eyes instantly, shoulders curling in a bit in an attempt to hide. 

“No, Sir,” he said, voice shaking. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

James gave an unimpressed hum as he released Thomas’ hair, pushing him a bit and causing the submissive to fall backwards. “Apologise to my father and yours for speaking out of turn.”

“I’m sorry, sirs,” Thomas said, shifting back to kneel up properly. He knew if he stayed slumped down on the floor he’d just get into more trouble. Peter laughed, swallowing the last of his drink before standing. 

“It seems my fears were completely unwarranted,” he said, giving James a nod. “My son is in good hands with you, James.”

“Thank you, sir,” James said, standing and extended a hand to Peter. The elder dominant shook his hand firmly before turning to James Sr.

“You’ve raised a good one here, James,” Peter said, giving Mr Madison a handshake as well. “I must be off. I’m sure you’ll be wanting to get to church soon.”

“Ah yes,” James Sr said with a smile. “Are you still coming tomorrow evening for dinner?”

“Yes, if the invitation is still there,” Peter said. 

“It is,” James Sr nodded, shaking Peter’s hand again.

“Tomorrow then,” Peter said, giving James Senior and Junior both nods before leaving without a single glance at his son. 

“Thomas,” James said, glancing down at his submissive. “Go get changed for church. Your outfit is on the end of the bed.”

“Yes, Sir,” Thomas said softly, swiftly climbing to his feet and leaving, happy to get away from Mr Madison.

—

Thomas was silent the entire drive to church. He was silent the entire service, standing and sitting when the others did but mostly just staring at his feet and doing a pretty good impersonation of a statue. He was silent the entire drive back from church; while everyone else happily chatted about the service or their hopes for presents as they all gathered in the living room, Thomas silently followed James until the dominant sat and then Thomas knelt by his side. His eyes never left the floor the entire time. No one spoke to him, which Thomas was thankful for ( _“Submissives are silent unless spoken to”_ ).

Presents were exchanged between the Madisons, soft Christmas music playing in the background and the fire crackling in the corner. There were cheers and excited “thank you!”s when someone received a present they wanted. And less excited by still polite “thank you”s when it was a less than desirable present. James Sr had left after only a few minutes of present opening, giving no excuse as he stood and left the room. Thomas knelt listening to it all, exhausted and wishing that they would just all hurry up so he could go to bed.

“Why didn’t you get Thomas anything?” Sarah asked James as she handed him his last present.

“He’s Jewish, Sarah,” James said gently, unwrapping the small box to find a pair of cufflinks. “Thank you, these are lovely.”

“What’s that mean?” Elizabeth asked, her new baby doll sat in her lap.

“It means he practices Judaism,” James explained. “Which is a religion like Christianity. But they have different holidays. So he doesn’t celebrate Christmas.”

“But he’s your submissive,” Sarah said, sitting down between Nelly and William. “Isn’t he supposed to be whatever you tell him?”

“Yes but I don’t particularly care if he’s Jewish,” James shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me. At least not yet. When we get married that’ll be a different story but for now it’s no big deal.”

Thomas swallowed, tears once again prickling at the back of his eyes. James’ words from barely a couple weeks before echoed in his mind - _“_ _you are always free to practice your religion in our home”_ \- and Thomas cursed himself for actually believing him. Thomas wasn’t sure yet why James had pretended to be so nice to him only to then reveal his true self now. But he wasn’t going to let himself be fooled again. 

“Well, we got him something,” Frances said, standing and grabbing the only unopened present from under the tree. She handed it to Reuben and gave the toddler a little push towards Thomas. “Go give that to Thomas, Reu.”

Reuben walked over, holding out the present to Thomas. “Here.”

Thomas didn’t take it, instead, he looked up to James for permission. When the dominant nodded Thomas took the item from Reuben gently with a soft, “thank you.” He opened it slowly, being careful not to ruin the wrapping paper. It was a black notebook and when Thomas opened it he found pages of blank sheet music. 

“It’s for composing,” Frances helpfully supplied. “Your mother mentioned to ours that you played the violin and composed a bit. So we thought you’d might like to have something to write it down in. Maybe you could compose something for us and next time we see you, you could play it.”

“Thank you,” Thomas whispered, sounding a little choked up. “It’s lovely.”

“We’d love to hear you play sometime,” Eleanor said as she tidied up the wrapping paper that had been thrown everywhere. 

“I’ll bring his violin next time,” James said as he stood. “It’s late. Thomas, go up to bed. I’ll be there soon.” 

“Yes, Sir,” Thomas whispered, standing and holding the notebook close to his chest as he left the living room. He quickly made his way upstairs to James’ bedroom, shutting the door behind him and sighing. He gently placed the notebook on the desk before undressing. His clothes were neatly folded and placed on a chair before he grabbed his bonnet and tugged it on his head. He didn’t even spare his pyjamas a glance ( _"Submissive will sleep naked at all times"_ ) before climbing into bed completely naked and curling up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Thomas. Will he ever catch a break?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Christmas dinner at the Madison household was never an overly dramatic affair. It truly wasn’t very different from the usual Sunday dinners that they had every week, which the addition of a giant turkey and some Christmas music._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: There is a flashback/dream containing child abuse. It’s in the italic bit after James talks to his dad.**
> 
> I'm sorry this didn't get up last night... I got distracted by another series idea that I may or may not write at some point... (its current title in my head is "The Washingtons' Harem"...)
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy some more angst

Thomas heard James wake the next morning. He laid there, completely still and silent, listening to James move around the room, getting dressed for the day. Thomas knew he should get up, pretending to be asleep would only delay the inevitable and make his dominant angry. But he didn’t want to get up and he couldn’t bring himself to move. He listened as James came over and sat down on the edge of the bed. 

“Thomas?” James whispered, resting a light hand on Thomas’ side. “Are you awake?”

Thomas didn’t answer, just continued to lay there pretending to sleep. James sighed softly and stood, his footsteps heading to the door. The door opened and closed, leaving Thomas alone in the bedroom. He laid there silently for another few minutes before sitting up with a sigh. He looked around the room to see if James, frowning a bit when there was no outfit laid out for him to wear that day. He chewed his bottom lip, sliding down to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. 

Surely James didn’t expect him to be naked in front of his family. So the dominant must expect Thomas to wait here for him to return and pick Thomas’ outfit for the day. Thomas took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he shut his eyes. Might as well get some more sleep while he waited for James.

—

“James,” his father said, standing in the doorway of the living room. Since no one had gone to bed until the sun was starting to come up most of the family was still asleep in bed so James was the only one besides his mother who was downstairs. He found that he couldn’t sleep, not after the events of yesterday and especially not after finding Thomas naked in his bed. 

“Yes, father?” James said, looking up from his cup of tea. 

“Come, there is something we need to discuss,” James Sr turned and left, expecting his son to follow. James sighed, drinking the last sip of his tea before placing the mug on the coffee table and following his father up to his office. 

“Sit,” James Sr said, pointing to a chair once James had shut the door to the office.

“What’s going on, Father?” James asked, sitting as directed. 

“I spoke Peter this morning,” James Sr said, sitting at his desk. 

“I thought he was satisfied with my ability as a dominant,” James said, frowning. 

“He is,” James Sr nodded. “He’s not breaking the engagement, James. I called him.”

“Why?” 

“I suggested, and he agreed, that you and Thomas should get married. Tomorrow.”

“What?” James’ eyes widened. “Why?”

“People are questioning your claim on Thomas,” James Sr said, leaning back in his chair a bit. “A marriage would stop that.”

“But we weren’t meant to be getting married until I graduate,” James said, nervously tapping his fingers against his knee. 

“It was silly of Peter and me to let the wedding happen so late,” James Sr said. “We clearly underestimated the scrutiny you and Thomas would receive. Having you two married will reduce the number of people questioning your claim to him.”

“Will it though?” James asked, tilting his head slightly. “Father, I don’t think-“

“This is not up for debate,” James Sr said firmly, leaning forward and resting his arms on his desk. “You and Thomas will be married tomorrow. I have already arranged things at our church.” 

“Thomas is Jewish.” 

“Not anymore,” James Sr said, opening his laptop. “Leave me, James. I have things to take care of.”

“But, father-“

“Leave.”

“Yes, Father,” James sighed, standing and leaving the office quickly. 

—

_Thomas was six._

_He was in the backyard of his parents’ house. Mother was in the kitchen and Father was out at work. Thomas was crawling around through the bushes around the edge of the garden following the trail of a cat that he’d seen running through the yard. Mother had told him not get his clothes dirty but the cat was so pretty and Thomas wanted to find it. He’d always wanted a pet and maybe if he found the cat Father would let him keep it._

_Leaves and branches were getting caught in his hair. Mug covered the knees of his jeans. But Thomas just kept crawling, looking around to find the way the cat had gone. He couldn’t see it anywhere and there weren’t even any footprints in the mud to give him a clue as to where it went. After a couple more minutes of searching, Thomas sighed sadly and decided to give up._

_He crawled out of the bushes, getting a few more branches stuck in his hair and a lot more mud on his clothes. Once he was free from the plants he looked up to find Father standing on the back porch watching him. Thomas froze, staring at Father with wide, fearful eyes._

_“What do you think you’re doing?” Father said, narrowing his eyes at Thomas._

_“I- I- I was-“_

_“Speak up, boy!” Father snapped, stepping down off the porch and marching over to Thomas. He reached down and grabbed him roughly by the arm, pulling him to his feet._

_“I was looking for a cat, sir,” Thomas said, whimpering softly in pain from Father’s tight grip on his arm._

_“Didn’t your mother tell you not to get your clothes dirty?” Father dragged Thomas towards the house._

_“Yes, sir, but-“ A slap across the cheek cut him off, making Thomas cry out in pain._

_“You are to do as your told, Thomas,” Father said, pulling Thomas into the house and slamming the door shut behind them._

_“I’m sorry, Father,” Thomas said softly, fearfully watching Father._

_“You will be,” Father said, raising his hand to deliver another slap across Thomas’ face. Thomas cried out, turning away from Father and covering his head._

_“I’m sorry!” He sobbed, flinching when Father gripped him by the hair and forced Thomas to look at him._

_“You are to do as your told,” Father said, leaning in close. “Submissives obey. Always, instantly, and without question.” He gripped Thomas’ grin, fingers pressing into the bruise that was forming on Thomas’ cheek, making the submissive whimper. “Bad submissives who disobey orders are punished. And you’ve been bad, Thomas. You deserve to be punished, don’t you?”_

_“Father, I’m sorry,” Thomas whispered, breath hitching. “Please. I’m sorry.”_

_Father released his chin, only to deliver another slap to his cheek. “Submissives don’t talk back. They accept their punishments without arguing.”_

_Thomas sobbed, wriggling and trying to get out of Father’s grip. But Father was much bigger and stronger and he had Thomas’ hair in too tight a grip for Thomas to escape. All this fighting got him was a couple more hits to the face before Father released his hair and shoved him backwards. Thomas tripped and fell on the hallway table, hitting his head hard and landing on the floor with a thud. Thomas curled into a ball as the tall figure of Father loomed over him, sobbing into his knees._

“Thomas.”

_Thomas whimpered, curling in tighter. “Please. I’m sorry. Please.”_

“Thomas.”

_“Please, father, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Please don’t hurt me.”_

“Thomas!”

Thomas woke with a gasp, sitting up quickly and looking around, eyes filled with panic. His father was nowhere in sight but James was sat on the edge of the bed, watching him. Thomas swallowed hard, forcing himself to take a deep breath, trying to calm down and stop his hands from trembling.

“Thomas?” James said softly. 

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Thomas whispered, voice cracking a bit. 

James frowned, “Why’re you calling me that?”

“Because you’re my dominant, Sir,” Thomas said softly, shifting to sit up more comfortably, placing a bit of distance between him and James. 

“Yeah, but you can call me James,” James said, reaching out to rest a hand on Thomas’ arm. Thomas flinched involuntarily and James pulled back.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Thomas quickly said. ( _“Dominants have full and unrestricted access to their submissive’s body”_ )

“No, Thomas, don’t apologise,” James sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Are you okay? You were crying in your sleep.”

“I’m fine, Sir,” Thomas said softly, fiddling with the bedsheets. “May I ask what time it is?”

“Three pm,” James said. “You seemed really tired so I just let you sleep. But your parents will be here soon for dinner so you’ve got to get up now.”

“Yes, Sir,” Thomas whispered, glancing over at their suitcase. “May I shower while you pick out my outfit, Sir?”

“Yeah, of course,” James whispered, standing. It seemed to Thomas like James wanted to say more but was restraining himself. Thomas slid out of the bed, moving over to grab his toiletry bag off the dresser. “Thomas, wear your robe. There are towels in the bathroom. Just leave it in the hamper by the door once you’re done.”

“Yes, Sir,” Thomas whispered, pulling on his robe before leaving the bedroom. 

———

Christmas dinner at the Madison household was never an overly dramatic affair. It truly wasn’t very different from the usual Sunday dinners that they had every week, which the addition of a giant turkey and some Christmas music. Thomas sat by James side this time, eating only what the dominant put on his plate and not speaking a word to anyone since no one had asked him any questions. 

“We won’t be having our usual games day tomorrow,” James Sr announced as Eleanor served dessert. 

“What? Why?” Catlett whined, pouting. 

“James and Thomas are getting married tomorrow,” James Sr said, sipping his wine. Thomas froze, only just managing not to group his cutlery. 

Married? Tomorrow?

“Everything has been arranged at the church,” James Sr continued. “It will be a small ceremony - just family - and then we will be going to the Jefferson’s for lunch afterwards.”

“But I thought Thomas was Jewish,” Nelly said, looking over at said submissive. “Is he converting?”

“Yes, Nelly, of course, he is,” James Sr said dismissively. “That will be taken care of before the wedding.”

“What if he doesn’t want to convert?” Frances asked, turning to her father with a challenging gaze. 

“That is not his decision, Frances,” James Sr said narrowing his eyes slightly. “And you would do well to remember that.”

“So if Ambrose gets married to someone that’s not Christian and they make him convert you won’t be upset?” Frances asked, unphased by her father’s annoyance. 

“I am choosing who Ambrose marries so that will not be an issue, Frances,” James Sr said. 

“It’s not fair. Thomas-“

“Frances, enough,” James Sr interrupted, voice firm. “This matter is none of your concern and I will hear nothing further from you. You are all to be dressed and ready to go at ten am tomorrow morning. Understood?”

“Yes, Father,” the Madison siblings chorused. 

“Good,” he said, standing. “James, Catlett, Nelly, William, and Reuben, you will come join Peter and me in the living room while the others clean up.”

They all stood, following their father and Peter out, leaving the submissive family members to clean up. 

“Thomas, darling,” Jane said softly, moving over to her son. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, mother,” Thomas whispered, standing and starting to gather up the dirty dishes. 

“I’m sure that was quite a shock,” Eleanor said, handing Elizabeth all the napkins to put in the washing. 

“Yes, a bit,” Thomas admitted softly. “But it’s fine.”

“You’re not upset about having to convert?” Frances frowned, grabbing plates and stacking them. “Or having your wedding sprung on you with no say?”

Thomas gave a small shrug, “No. I’m a submissive. I don’t get a say. I do as I’m told. Always, instantly, and without question.”

“That’s dumb,” Frances said, watching him. “It’s your life.”

“Frances,” Eleanor said with a sigh. “Stop that. Your father will be upset if he hears you.”

“I don’t care, mother,” Frances said with a shrug, carrying the plates into the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry about her,” Eleanor said, giving Thomas a small smile. 

“It’s fine,” he said softly, focusing on tidying up. With so many hands to help it didn’t take long for everything to be washed up and put away. Once the dining room and kitchen were cleaned, Jane took Thomas’ hands and pulled him away from the others.

“Thomas, darling, I know you’re upset,” Jane said softly, pressing a hand to his cheek. “I know you don’t want to convert.”

“I don’t have a choice, mother,” he whispered, looking down at her. 

“I know, my sweet boy,” she whispered sadly. “I wish I could do something but…”

“I know,” he whispered, giving her a small smile. “It’s okay, mother. I’m okay. Everything will be okay.”

“James is kind to you, yes?” She asked softly. 

“Yes, mother,” Thomas nodded. It was the truth. If he ignored yesterday. But even if it wasn’t he would lie to keep his mother happy. 

“Good,” she whispered, pulling him down to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“I love you, Thomas,” she whispered. 

“I love you too, mama,” he breathed, pulling her in for a hug. He rested his head on top of hers and shut his eyes, trying for even a brief moment to forget about what he was going to be forced to do tomorrow and enjoying the comforting feeling of hugging his mother. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter in this part I think...


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Jemmy, congrats, can I talk to your husband for a sec?” Frances said, resting a hand on Thomas’ arm. “I’ll only be a minute.”_
> 
> _“Sure, Frances,” James said, stepping away. “Thomas, you have permission to talk.”_
> 
> _“Come on, Tommy-boy,” Frances said, leading her new brother-in-law away from the others a bit. He followed without argument. Frances wasn’t sure if he’d ever put up a fight about anything in his life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of Frances POV to start us out because I love her…

“Did Father think about the fact that a rushed wedding like this may raise more questions and concerns with people than it solves?” Ambrose whispered to Frances as they sat in the front pew at church. James and Thomas were stood a few feet away with the Priest and their fathers, talking quietly. 

“I don’t know,” Frances whispered, arms crossed. “But I think this is dumb. They shouldn’t be forcing Thomas to convert.”

“He’s James’ submissive,” Ambrose glanced at his sister. “He’s got to do what James says.”

“He’s a person, Ambrose,” Frances whispered. “He deserves the freedom to make his own choices.”

“But-“

“Hush, you two,” Eleanor leaned over the back of the pew, whispering to her children. 

Frances turned to look at her, “Mom-“

“No, Frances now is not the time nor place,” she said firmly. Frances huffed and turned back around, glaring at her feet as the Priest drew a cross on Thomas’ head. It made her sick to watch them force Thomas to convert and she was extremely disappointed in her brother for not standing up for his submissive.

Frances watched as the Priest moved on to the wedding ceremony, not really listening to what was being said. She wondering what strings her father had to pull to get this organised so quickly. Frances sighed and looked down at her shoes, tapping her foot against the floor impatiently. 

“In the name of God, I, James Madison, take you, Thomas Jefferson, to be my husband and submissive, to have and hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow.”

Frances looked up after James finished talking, catching the barely disguised look of sadness on Thomas’ face as he repeated the lines to James. 

“Now that James and Thomas have given themselves to each other by solemn vows, I pronounce that they are lawfully wedded, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” The priest said, placing James’ hand on top of Thomas’. “Those whom God has joined together let no one put asunder. Amen.”

“Amen,” the Madisons echoed. 

The Priest then went on to bless the marriage and do all the other boring formal stuff that Frances tuned out in favor of studying her new brother-in-law. Frances could see even from a few feet away how stiffly Thomas was stood, the tension seeming to radiate off his body. She could only imagine how difficult this must be for him and wished there was something she could do to make things better. 

She didn’t bother paying attention again until the Priest was finished speaking and James was leading Thomas away from the altar with a hand on his back. As soon as she noticed that things were finished she jumped up and quickly moved to her brother before anyone else good.

“Jemmy, congrats, can I talk to your husband for a sec?” Frances said, resting a hand on Thomas’ arm. “I’ll only be a minute.”

“Sure, Frances,” James said, stepping away. “Thomas, you have permission to talk.”

“Come on, Tommy-boy,” Frances said, leading her new brother-in-law away from the others a bit. He followed without argument. Frances wasn’t sure if he’d ever put up a fight about anything in his life.

“So, Thomas here’s the thing,” Frances said, turning to look up at him once they were far enough away that they couldn’t be overheard. “My dad’s a dick. And so it seems is yours. But James isn’t. And I know that may be hard to believe right now but I swear he’s not. He obviously believes some dumb shit because of our dad but deep down he’s a good guy.”

Thomas just watched her, waiting for her to get to some sort of point. 

“Look,” she sighed, running a hand through her braids. “You have a phone right?”

“Yes, miss,” Thomas nodded. 

“Frances. Call me Frances. I’m not a dom, Thomas. I’m a neutral and even if I was a dom you wouldn’t have to call me that,” she frowned a bit before sighing. “Give me your phone. I’m going to give you my number.”

“May I ask why?” He pulled the phone from his pocket and handed it to her.

“Because I don’t want you to think you don’t have people on your side,” she said, programming her number in. It saddened her to see that he only had four numbers in his contacts. “I know you probably think I’m a dumb kid or something but if you ever want to talk you can call me. Or text if you prefer. Promise me you will.”

“I promise, Frances,” he said, taking the phone back and returning it to his pocket. 

“Good,” she nodded, stepping in and wrapping him in a hug. Thomas hesitated before returning the hug. Frances noted with a satisfied smile how he relaxed a bit.

—

_“Thomas, we need to talk,” James said, shutting the door of their bedroom. Thomas’ parents had left just moments before and everyone had been sent to bed to ensure they were up and ready to leave on time in the morning._

_“About what, Sir?” Thomas asked, hands clasped behind his back._

_“Well, firstly, what happened yesterday,” James said, moving to sit down in his desk chair. “Please, sit down on the bed, Thomas.”_

_“Yes, Sir,” Thomas said softly, moving to sit facing James._

_“I need to apologise,” James said softly, watching Thomas with a guilty expression. “The way I treated you yesterday was horrid and I’m so so so sorry. I know that doesn’t make up for what I did but I had to say it. I understand if you could never trust me again and if you want I can still arrange for you to live on campus.”_

_“Why would I be allowed to live on campus?” Thomas asked softly. “I’m not a student.”_

_“I’ve enrolled you, Thomas, I told you that,” James frowned._

_“I’m a submissive, Sir, my place is in the home.”_

_“No, Thomas,” James sighed. “Your place is wherever you want it to be. And you’re so smart, Thomas, you deserve to go to school if that’s what you want. I read those essays you wrote they were brilliant!”_

_“I don’t want to,” Thomas said, clasping his hands together in his lap._

_“What?”_

_“I don’t want to go to school.”_

_“Thomas, where is this coming from? Is this because of the way I acted yesterday? Thomas, please, I was an ass. A horrible abusive asshole but I needed to convince your father and mine that I was a suitable dominant. That’s no excuse but I had to and I’m sorry. But please don’t let that make you think you shouldn’t go to school.“_

_“I am a submissive,” Thomas repeated. “You have nothing to apologise for, Sir. You were just treating me the way you should.”_

_“No, I wasn’t!” James snapped, standing. Thomas flinched slightly, leaning back from James a bit before stopping and sitting up straight. If James was going to hit him, he had no right to pull away. He deserved it for making his dominant angry. “Shit, Thomas. I’m so sorry. Coming to Virginia was a mistake. This is all such a fucking mess.”_

_Thomas watched wearily as James paced the length of his room, muttering softly to himself. He sat quietly, fiddling with his shirt sleeves and waiting for James to speak again._

_“Thomas,” James finally said, stopping to stand right in front of him. “I’m so sorry for everything that has happened since we got here. And I’m so sorry about what my father is making you do tomorrow. I don’t want to make you convert. I wish there was some way I could stop this but if I fight it they’ll take you away and make you marry someone who will hurt you can I can’t let that happen. But the conversion is just for show okay? You’re still Jewish. We’ll still practice Jewish holidays at home and go to synagogue every week if you want. Okay?”_

_“Okay, Sir,” Thomas thought it best not to argue with James, not when his dominant was so upset._

_“Please stop calling me sir, Thomas,” James said, sounding exhausted. “The contract doesn’t stand when we’re alone, remember?”_

_“It would be disrespectful for me to call you anything else,” Thomas said softly. “Unless you prefer Master.”_

_“No!” James’ eyes widened in horror. “No, Thomas, definitely not. Just call me James. Please.” Thomas gave a small nod, looking down at his lap. James sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s getting late. We should probably go to bed. And please, Thomas, sleep in your pyjamas tonight.”_

_“Okay,” Thomas said, standing and moving to get changed._

_—_

Lunch at the Jeffersons was a simple affair. Mrs Jefferson had made Thomas’ favorite foods from when he was a child and the meal was passed with most of the discussion coming from Peter and James Sr. Thomas couldn’t bring himself to eat much even though the foods were his favorites, his stomach full of too many knots. 

After lunch the children were sent out into the backyard to play while James Sr, Peter, and James went into the sitting room, leaving Eleanor and Thomas to help Jane clean up. 

“Thomas?” Jane said softly, stepping up to her son’s side at the sink where he stood staring out the window instead of washing the dishes. 

“Yes, mother?” He said, pulling his gaze away from the sky to look at her. 

“Are you okay, my son?” She asked softly. 

“I’m fine, mother, just thinking,” he whispered, turning to look at the plate he was washing. 

“I have something for you,” Jane said softly, pulling a small jewellery box out of her pocket. “This was your grandfather’s. He gave it to me shortly before he died to give to my son.” 

Thomas dried off his hands and took the box, opening it to find a necklace with a Magen David pendant **.** Thomas swallowed hard, shutting the box and trying to hand it back to her. 

“Mother, I can’t have this. I-“

“I know what you did, Thomas,” she said, forcing him to keep hold of the box. “But I also know what’s in your heart. And I think you need this now more than ever.”

“If James finds out he’ll be upset,” Thomas whispered, gripping the box tight. He desperately wanted to keep it but he didn’t know if it was the best idea. 

“I very much doubt that,” Jane said softly, taking the box and slipping it into Thomas’ pocket. Thomas exhaled softly, biting his lower lip. “I love you, Thomas.”

“I love you too, Ima,” Thomas whispered, pulling her in for a tight hug. Jane hugged her son back firmly, rubbing his back and whispering how much she loved him into his chest. 

“Thomas?” James called softly from the doorway, making the submissive stiffen and pull back quickly. “I’m so sorry to interrupt but we’re leaving. We’re going back to New York now.” 

“Now, Sir?” Thomas frowned in confusion. 

“Yes,” he nodded. “We’re going to get our stuff from my parents’ place and then we’re going straight up to New York. I’ll give you a minute to say goodbye to your mom and then come out to the car, okay?”

“Yes, Sir,” Thomas said, ducking his head. 

“Goodbye, Mrs Jefferson,” James said, giving her a polite smile. “Thank you for lunch. It was lovely.”

“You’re very welcome, James,” she said, returning his smile. James nodded and left. Jane turned to her son and rested a hand on his cheek. “Goodbye, my darling.”

“Bye, mother,” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. 

“Come visit again soon,” she said softly, smiling sadly. 

“If my dominant allows it,” he said, giving her another tight hug. 

“I love you,” she whispered. “Never forget that. And never forget what’s in your heart, Thomas.”

“I won’t,” he promised, pulling back and giving her one last smile before leaving. He slipped a hand into his pocket and held the little box tight as he went to find James. 

———

They arrived back in New York around midnight. Thomas was exhausted and a bit on edge as they rode the elevator up to their apartment. James hadn’t spoken at all on the trip home and Thomas was growing increasingly worried by the minute. When they entered the apartment, James went straight over to his desk and grabbed something off of it. 

“Thomas, come here,” James said, moving to the fireplace. Thomas rested the suitcase down by the bedroom door and went over to him nervously. James was holding their betrothal contract in one hand. He grabbed the matches off the mantle and lit one, setting the corner of the contract on fire. 

“We’re married now so this contract doesn’t stand,” James said, tossing the papers into the fireplace. “We have to write a new one. But…” he turned to Thomas, stepping around him and reaching up to unbuckle his collar, “we’re not writing a new one until and unless you truly want to be my submissive.” 

Thomas’ breath caught in his throat as James pulled the collar away from his neck. 

“I know you said you wanted to keep the collar because it was insurance that I wasn’t just going to get rid of you,” James said softly, tossing the collar to rest on the coffee table. “But we have our marriage licence to serve that purpose now.”

“Sir, I-“

“James,” James said firmly. “I’m not your dominant right now, Thomas. I’m not your dominant again until you actually want me to be. And if you don’t ever want me to be that then I’ll gladly sign the divorce papers. We are equals now. Nothing more than roommates, and hopefully one day friends.” 

Thomas swallowed, looking down at his feet. He reached up to touch his neck gently. It felt weird not to have a collar on after so many months.

“We have a lot to talk about,” James said softly. “But it’s late. So that’s probably best left until the morning.”

“Okay,” Thomas whispered, looking over and watching the contract burn. 

“You take the bed,” James said softly. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, we can-“

“Thomas,” James interrupted gently. “I’m sleeping on the couch tonight. We can discuss sleeping arrangements further tomorrow. But for tonight, you sleep in there. And I sleep out here okay?”

“Okay,” Thomas sighed, biting his lip and moving towards the bedroom. “Good night, James.”

“Good night, Thomas,” James said softly, sitting down on the couch. Thomas watched him for a moment before sighing softly and entering the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus ends the tale of James and Thomas' first Christmas together...
> 
> There are lots of things our dear couple needs to discuss, lots of problems to solve... but that is a story for another time. 
> 
> My boss told me earlier that I'm only needed tomorrow morning and then not again until the New Year so I'm going to have plenty of time to write over the next couple weeks so look forward to that. 
> 
> But I'm going to see Hamilton tomorrow night for the West End opening and I'm so excited I could scream so I don't know if I'm going to get the next instalment up tomorrow. 
> 
> Truthfully, I haven't decided what I want the next part to be about yet so if you've got any requests please share. I was thinking of introducing some more characters - specifically the Schuyler siblings. Maybe? Possibly? I don't know. 
> 
> My brain is also partially consumed by my other dumb story idea about George and Martha collecting a harem of lovers so that's fun...
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you guys want to see and maybe my muse will get back on track and focus on this series instead of coming up with a million other ideas. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and commenting!

**Author's Note:**

> [My tumblr](http://www.isnonstop.tumblr.com) if you want to talk or yell at me.


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